


Be Consumed

by Ruriska



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: ... obviously, Angst, Assisted Suicide, Character Death, Gen, I'm not sorry, from sadfic to deathfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriska/pseuds/Ruriska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons always burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Consumed

It starts as a tremor in his arm, a burning prickling under the skin, as if there’s something crawling there, trying to scratch its way to freedom. The fire spreads and he is burning, burning, burning. Hanzo grits his teeth, rides the pain with desperate breaths and waits for it to pass. It _will_ pass, this time, but one day it won’t. From the moment he first heard their whispers in his veins, promising terrible power, he has known. From the moment he felt them dig into his soul with teeth and claws, twisting around his being and claiming their right to his life, he has known. 

Eventually the pain subsides and he can emerge from hiding, return to the mission as if nothing is wrong. The others are full of cheer and banter. It is always exciting, they tell him, to see his dragons on the battlefield. Their immense blue forms, winding together, mouths agape and hungry. He can’t tell them how hungry they are, of how they return to him unsated no matter how many lives they claim. He can’t tell them they aren’t really his. It is the other way around. 

Hanzo accepts their praise with a gracious nod. It is enough to see them alive and well, happy and hopeful. They will return to base in triumph and glory. 

“You must stop using the dragons,” Genji tells him later. He doesn’t look at his brother when he stops him in the long hallway with a firm hand to his shoulder. Hanzo feels that familiar bitterness lodge in his throat and doesn’t reply. He shrugs off the hand and walks on. The cowboy calls out his name as he passes the kitchen but still he walks. 

His brother will never know the weight of the twin dragons, the ever tightening double noose. Hanzo wonders if he can even burn anymore, now that there is so little flesh to ignite. He’s not sure if that makes him angry or happy. It is a confusing mix of emotions. Rage that his brother still lives despite _that_ day, guilt like a hot coal in his belly and relief that his brother will live on while he is slowly consumed. It is a fitting fate.

Time passes; days, weeks, months. He is a shadow in his own home, holds himself aloof despite a friendly arm across his shoulder or repeated attempts to foster a deeper connection. It is lonely but it is better this way. He will content himself with watching over this strange Overwatch family from afar, striking down their enemies and shredding his soul to pieces one battle at a time to ensure their safety. 

The whispers grow louder. They no longer wait until he calls them. He feels them in the night, digging deeper, hissing and laughing. Sometimes he loses hours at a time, finds himself crouched in the corner of his room or sitting in a bath long gone cold. They are burning him up, slowly but surely.

Hanzo remembers his father. A broad-shouldered and powerful man, reduced to nothing but a thin husk, raving in the night and tearing out his own hair. He remembers the dragon, blood red and hungry. When his father called upon it, the ground would rumble and their enemies were swept away. Then his father was swept away and Hanzo was left behind with two hungry dragons and a duty heavier than a mountain.

When the pain is at its peak, he sings to himself. 

_Nennen korori yo, Okorori yo.  
Bōya wa yoi ko da, Nenne shina._

The gentle lullaby is heavy on his tongue but his mother’s voice is soothing in his mind, her cool hand against his cheek a vivid memory. He loved her dearly, cried secretly into her skirts when his father was too harsh and his hand too firm. His child self had always believed everything would be fine, as long as he had her embrace to run to. Then she was gone. One last moment together etched in his mind; her face too pale, Genji’s little hand too tight in his own and softly whispered words, 'I love you, I love you so much, take care of your brother'. A lot of his childhood is faded and edged with bitterness but he keeps those sharper memories in his heart, reminds himself of them more than ever, now that the tremors are permanent. 

The others begin to notice. He tries hard to avoid them but even he can be caught out in the kitchen at midnight, the water in his glass spilling over the rim because the ceaseless shaking. Hanzo escapes their concern as best he can, hides himself away and vomits into the sink when the claws grip too tight. 

The next mission ends in a haze. They win, he thinks, because of him. His arrows found their mark, his dragons screamed their challenge into the night. It was hard won battle, he is sure but can’t really know because his mind is fragmenting. Someone is screaming, he thinks it’s him. Or maybe it isn’t, maybe it’s all the people he has killed. They multiply, fill his brain with noise and he can only be glad Genji’s screams are not amongst them.

He spits out the lullaby, broken pieces of it but there is no reminder of his mother to comfort him. The flames are eating him up. The dragons are almost ready to feast. 

Hanzo is breaking, shattering, choking.

He is being held down and it makes him want to tear off his own skin.

He isn’t sure if the voices are real or in his own mind.

“What’s happening to him?”

“What do we do?”

“Call Angela! We need to get him back to base.”

“This is real bad.”

Just as he feels the dragons swell and flex for the final kill, a cold hand touches his brow, brushes back his hair. “Brother. Come back.” He can feel their disappointment as he denies their claim and sinks into the safe darkness.

When he wakes, it is to bone deep weariness and his own room. His clothes are gone and he thinks somebody bathed the sweat from his body. Hanzo is so tired. He lets himself drift away again. There is a pulling feeling, as sense of falling, and he knows that if he lets it happen, he can simply let go and the dragon's jaws will snap shut. There is very little of his will left to fight with. 

But he does fight.

Hanzo remains awake until his brother enters the room. They stare at each other across the small space. Genji’s faceplate is gone and those familiar dark eyes, unchanged from their youth, look tired and sad. 

“It is time, brother,” Genji says and Hanzo nods. He would do it himself, should have done it himself but he doesn’t have the strength now. It is better this way, he thinks. This will bring them full circle and end a lifetime of pain, a lifetime of betrayal. 

“Say... goodbye... for... me.” Words are difficult; they catch in his throat. 

“I will.” Genji promises.

He slides himself in behind Hanzo on the bed, flesh pressed against a metal chest. They haven’t been this close in so many years. So much time lost between them. Genji places the _tantō_ in his lap, curls an arm around his chest and holds him, as if they are children again. 

Genji starts to sing. 

“Nennen korori yo, Okorori yo.  
Bōya wa yoi ko da, Nenne shina.”

They are boys again. Genji has snuck into his bedroom, climbed into his bed and is fighting back tears. Another nightmare, he whimpers. Hanzo sighs and sings the lullaby he remembers from their mother, strokes his brothers hair until he falls asleep. 

“Bōya no omori wa, Doko e itta?  
Ano yama koete, Sato e itta.”

Genji slides the dagger from its sheath and Hanzo feels the point pressed against his belly. It takes all his strength to wrap his hands around his brothers metal ones and squeeze reassuringly. 

The dragons stir. Their prize is being claimed by another. He can feel their rage bubbling up but they can’t reach him now. 

He’s crying but it is with relief. 

Genji is with him.

He will not be consumed. 

“Sato no miyage ni, Nani morotta?  
Denden taiko ni, Shō no fue.”

He feels the kiss against the back of his head and the kiss of the dagger at the same time. 

Then he sinks and burns no more.

**Author's Note:**

> The song is called Edo Lullaby and you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewvLQWCEJbs&list=RDSdjYd2fzN5Q&index=2).


End file.
